


Every Time I See You (Seems I Can't Let Go)

by Imoshen



Series: SPN ABO Bingo 2019 [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Arthur Ketch, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Consent is Sexy, Knotting, M/M, Mating, Omega Dean Winchester, Omega for Hire, Rut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 13:02:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20639606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imoshen/pseuds/Imoshen
Summary: Dean Winchester works as an Omega for hire. This appointment is going to be different than all others before, though. (Damn Brits.)





	Every Time I See You (Seems I Can't Let Go)

**Author's Note:**

> crossposted to tumblr, @mrsimoshen
> 
> Written for SPN A/B/O Bingo for the Square Omega For Hire.
> 
> Title taken from Roxette's "Fading like a Flower"

His mobile wakes Dean from what had been a well-deserved afternoon nap. He growls and considers ignoring the call, but a glance at the display tells him it’s the agency. He could use another paycheck, so he swipes right and accepts the call.

“Mr. Winchester, we have a customer request for you.”

“Let’s hear it, sugar,” Dean tells the woman who’s always calling and who he hasn’t met once in person yet. “Who’s requesting?”

“The British Gentleman,” she informs him. Dean sits up straighter at hearing that code name. (None of the Alphas who request the services of the Agency are mentioned by their real names in conversations. The Agency knows them, of course, and they do thorough background checks before accepting a client, but most of the employees who don’t go out to meet them never learn the names.)

“Specific date and time or the usual arrangements?”

“The usual arrangements,” she replies. “Should I inform him you’re accepting?”

“Yeah,” Dean murmurs, already thinking about what he’ll have to pack before he sets out to meet his client. His heart started beating faster the moment he heard the client’s code name. “Tell him I’ll be on my way in about an hour.”

“Very well, Mr. Winchester. Good day.”

She ends the call with that, and Dean growls in annoyance and, not for the first time, considers telling _someone_ in upper management that maybe, they should not let someone do the calls who so obviously despises the job (and possibly their coworkers, Dean’s not quite sure yet about that). He indulges in a lazy stretch as he gets up before going to pack a bag.

It’s an hour’s ride to the cabin they use as a meeting spot. Dean parks his beloved Impala in the empty space beside the motorcycle and pats her roof before he heads to the cabin itself, taking a deep breath on the way.

He can smell bergamot and mint, but it’s not yet at a stage where he’d have to prepare for an Alpha in rut. Good, that means his client didn’t cut too close before he called the agency.

Dean’s had a key since their third meeting, so he lets himself in. “Honey, I’m home!”

Arthur Ketch looks around the door leading to the kitchen. “Hello, poppet,” he drawls. “You were fast.”

Dean shrugs, not willing to admit he hurried on purpose. “Traffic was good,” he says instead. It’s not a complete lie. “How narrow a timeframe are we dealing with?”

Ketch’s mouth twists a little before he disappears back into the kitchen. Dean walks closer. “I took the last dose yesterday, so we have a little more time until I lose all reason.”

Heat suppressants for Omegas are so far advanced by now they have almost no side effects and can be safely taken for years on end. The same can’t be said about rut suppressants for Alphas. A break every six months is mandatory if the Alpha doesn’t want to risk dying of a stroke or a heart attack or other nasty business. Dean knows Ketch hates being driven by his instincts the way he is during a rut, so he doesn’t comment and instead throws his bag into the bedroom before following the Alpha into the kitchen. “You’re cooking? Can I help?”

“Dean, you can and have burned water.” Ketch deftly flips the steaks. “Just sit at the table and smell delicious.”

“I burned water because _someone_ was smelling really fucking distracting,” Dean defends his honor, but complies and sits. Ketch laughs and stirs the potatoes.

Ketch may hate losing his iron control, but Dean _loves_ it when Ketch holds him down, uses his strength to take what he wants. It’s not that Dean isn’t willingly offering but knowing he’s with an Alpha who actually _can_ pin him is… yeah, okay, it’s arousing.

Dean whines low in his throat as Ketch uses one hand to hold both of his wrists down above his head, the Alpha a hot weight above him. Ketch’s scent is mostly sharp mint with an undertone of bergamot now, making Dean’s head spin with its potency. Ketch’s hard cock is a hot brand along his thigh, making him feel how open and slick and _empty_ he is. “Alpha,” and yes, that _is_ a whine even if Dean will never admit it, “Alpha, please!”

Ketch growls low in his chest but complies, shifting until he can push back into Dean’s willing body. Dean moans and arches his hips up to meet him, wraps his legs around Ketch’s hips. It doesn’t give Ketch that much room to move, but they’ve been at this for hours already and are both gone far enough for the slight rocking motion he manages to be enough. Ketch growls in his ear again before moving down to Dean’s neck. His teeth dig into sensitive skin and he shoves in hard, his knot stretching Dean open even further and flooding him with heat, and Dean shouts and twitches his way through his orgasm. He goes limp beneath the Alpha after, panting and still twitching with overstimulation. Ketch’s grip on his wrists loosens and Dean sighs as the other man sinks down on top of him, rut-driven instincts sated for now.

Dean wakes up (reluctantly so, Ketch wore him out) to the sensation of someone playing with his hair. He stretches lazily and then blinks his eyes open. “Hmm?”

“Sorry, didn’t intend to wake you,” Ketch murmurs. The fingers in his hair stop, and Dean makes a disgruntled sound and moves his head into the touch to make them continue. Ketch huffs amusement and complies, so Dean closes his eyes again and basks.

This is why he enjoys Ketch’s calls more than any other. He doesn’t wake up in some anonymous hotel room, alone except maybe for the lingering scents of an Alpha in the air. Instead, there’s warmth and gentle touches and the scents of bergamot and mint, mingled with his own apple and cinnamon. (Yes, he’s being sappy. Sue him.)

Ketch’s fingers slide from his hair to his neck, stroking gently over the skin where the skin is still red and sensitive from his teeth. Dean shivers a little and tilts his head to give him better access.

“Any regrets?” Ketch asks softly. Dean opens his eyes again to look up at his Alpha. (And isn’t that a new thought. _His_ Alpha. He can get used to that.)

“Only that we didn’t figure it out earlier,” he admits. (He _still_ hates Ketch’s bosses for not supporting a regular mating. No, it had to happen when Ketch was lost in rut for it to be an _accepted mating_. Bullshit.) The smile spreading over Ketch’s face is wide and warm and everything he needs to see to know the other man agrees. “And I’ll miss the additional income.”

Ketch snorts and leans down to nip at his mating bite again. “Cheeky little Omega,” he murmurs. “I’ll pay you for this one, and then you’ll get your payment in form of me rolling over for you once the ruts are done with.”

Dean shivers and licks at the matching bite on Ketch’s neck. “Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos make an author's day! <3


End file.
